To Defy the Devil Itself
by CablesAndCrack
Summary: My first 'proper' fanfiction! Damian Wayne is drawn down the dark path he's always been destined for. Alternate Future Timeline.


Damian sat by her. Her eyes were closed, there was a thin red gash across her left cheek, and her heart beat slowly, weakly. The room was white and plain, like the other rooms in the hospital. Damian grasped the patient's hand. She was a close friend. Stephanie Brown showed no signs of waking up soon. It was almost dawn.

Damian stood up to leave. He didn't want to leave her side but he had no choice. There was work to be done. He said nothing to no-one as he left the hospital, passing by patients, doctors, nurses and relatives. As he pushed open the door a long black limo pulled up by the side of the building and the door opened. Damian slid inside.

"She's not in a good state," he said slowly. His voice had really deepened these last few years. His father simply nodded from the seat next to him. "I presume we are heading for home?" Alfred's familiar voice asked from behind the wheel of the car. It was followed by a series of coughs. Alfred was old now, too old. "Yes. We have work to do," Bruce stated.

As the old grandfather clock peeled back to reveal the darkened stone stairs that led to the Batman's abode, Damian noticed how much emptier the Bat-Cave seemed. As Bruce's fortunes had slowly declined over time, more and more equipment had become outdated or simply irrelevant and so had been thrown out.

Bruce's hair was greying at the edges and his face was set with lines, mostly from scowling. From one corner of the cave came a faint high-pitched grunting accompanied by the buzzing of laser fire. Robin was training. Damian remembered all those years ago that he had taken up the mantle of the Boy Wonder, and the day he had graduated not so many years ago: barely two in fact. There was a new Robin now, though not exactly a boy wonder. Carrie Kelly finished the last of her robotic opponents off with a leaping kick to the face plate and turned to face the new arrivals.

She was in costume, a tightly-fitted green variation of the traditional robin vest with a black miniskirt and a green-lensed pair of goggles. Her hair was thick and ginger but short and well-tamed with a slight bounce to it. Tucked into her utility belt was a slingshot. Damian looked at the weapon with disdain. In truth, he didn't completely approve of his successor, but she had proved capable so far.

"At ease soldier," Bruce told Carrie, slumping into his chair in front of the bat-computer. Damian looked at him in disbelief. "Is this it?" he demanded, "We're just to sit around waiting?" Bruce didn't respond, "We don't know for certain..." Damian stopped him, interrupting: "We know exactly who was responsible; we should be out bringing him in! Not waiting for more evidence!" Bruce ignored his outburst, as the dimly lit screen of the Bat-Computer roared into life. Damian scowled, just like his father, and stormed out of the cave in anger. "Intense..." Carrie muttered.

There was one obvious advantage to no longer being Robin for Damian; he no longer had to play by his father's rules. He wasn't going to wait around. He had a job to do. He pulled on the red and black combat uniform that had now become his costume, with black boots and red gloves. Two escrima sticks hung from his belt, Dick had trained him to use them, and his face was hidden by the familiar black domino mask he had worn as Robin. Damian mounted his motorcycle and sped from the Bat-Bunker that currently operated as his headquarters and home. Redbird was unleashed into the night.

Blood splattered the wall as Redbird pounded into the criminal again and again. The man clutched his chest and spewed across the ground in the dark alley as the rain poured down, crashing against them. Damian's hand closed around his throat. "I won't ask again..." he said threateningly. This was the fourth man he'd beat within an inch of their life in just that night. He wasn't usually so violent, but this was personal. They'd all lead to the next man until finally Damian had landed on this scumbag.

Theodore Hunter was hardly a big shot criminal in the Gotham Underworld, but he did have his role to play. He was an information gatherer. If you needed to know the timetables of rival gangs, you came to him. If you wanted the details on a building you were going to hit, he was your man. If you were after the location of a family in witness protection then, well, you get the picture. Hunter had already felt at least five of his bones snap into tiny pieces that night from the blood-red vigilante, he had no desire to experience any more. He spilled his guts.

"He's got some kind of meeting at Ace Chemicals tonight, that's what his latest crime spree's been all about, it's all been building up to this meet. It's at midnight but he'll be there at least an hour early. That's all I know! I swear!" Damian glared into Hunter's eyes: "I believe you..." he whispered and tossed the man away like a doll.

The window to the giant facility opened easily and Damian dropped inside, landing silently on his toes. He glanced around. A fist crashed into the side of his face knocking him back. Damian stumbled and fell onto his back. He clenched his jaw. Arthur Brown stood, towering over him. Clutched between his teeth was a lit cigarette, with smoke drifting up towards the open window. His sandy blond hair was combed back from his forehead over his skull above a thin layer of much shorter but equally blond hair. His limbs were bulging and a line of rubber piping ran down his spine. Venom pumped through his bloodstream.

His suit was a tattered brown colour with patches sewn on as if he were some kind of teacher or professor, and a long dark trench coat sat over the top. His eyes were raving, twisted with darkness, and focused on Redbird. "You shouldn't be here!" Cluemaster shouted at the young hero. "You'll ruin everything! I passed my audition; I can't lose to you now. It's not fair!" With those cries of outrage, Cluemaster slammed his dark leather boot into Damian's stomach, lifting him up into the air. Damian landed in a heap a few feet away, clutching his side.

"I didn't want to hurt her," Arthur said softly, crouching down beside Damian. "I had to do it. I need this, and taking her out of the picture was the only way. She was a disgrace to our family." He slammed his fist down into Damian's cheek, smashing his head against the grating that served as a floor. "A disgrace to my family..."

He reached into his coat and produced a gun. It wasn't fancy, just a standard, pocket-sized, gun. He pointed it at Redbird. Damian's legs swept round, knocking Arthur off balance and Damian leaped into the air. The heels of his boots struck Brown across the face knocking him away. Damian landed on his feet, ready to fight. Cluemaster clicked his neck and cracked his knuckles then started to advance on Damian menacingly. Damian's eyes narrowed.

Taking a defensive stance, Redbird whipped out his escrima sticks, brandishing them in front of him. Arthur Brown grinned, swinging his fist at Damian. Damian dodged. Brown may have had venom running through him, but he didn't have any training. He wasn't built for physical combat.

As Redbird leaped at him, trying to tackle him to the ground only to be thrown away, he wondered by Brown bothered to keep the name Cluemaster as his days of ripping off the Riddler were long behind him. Then Steph re-entered to his mind and he felt the anger rise inside of him again. He snapped a palm into Arthur's chin, and Arthur stumbled backwards.

Cluemaster fell back, landing with a thud by the discarded gun. He reached for it but Damian kicked it up into the air, catching it in his left hand. Arthur ran a hand through his hair nervously. "You're not going to kill me..." he said, there was an assurance to his voice as he spoke. "I spent days beating her, my own daughter, and you won't believe the things I found out. I know who you all are, every one of you, and I know about your pathetic rules and morals. You won't kill me, even though you know that by letting me live you sacrifice everything. I will destroy you, there will be no secret identities left, but still you won't kill me. That's the way the world works, I win..."

Damian Wayne pulled the trigger and the bullet pierced Arthur Brown's skull, slicing through his brain, and ending his life. The last thing that the Cluemaster felt was a sudden jolt of shock with a strange sense of pride, laced with smugness. Damian found himself rooted to the spot, standing frozen, with the gun still pointed at the body in front of him. Sweat was forming on his brow. His hands shook and the gun fell from his grip plummeting to the ground. He turned away, towards the window he'd entered in, with the intention of leaving. His path was blocked by the ominous figure of the Batman

It was hard to believe there was a 'man' in Batman. His armour was pitch-black and devoid of all colour, and where once he had left his chin open for the world of crime to gaze upon in fear, he now covered with a black faceplate. The horns of his helmet were long, pointed, and demonic. The only light that came from his figure was the red glow from his eyes. Even with his mouth hidden, Damian knew he was scowling.

Their eyes met and Damian gulped. "I'm sorry..." he said, his voice suddenly weak and cracking. Batman cocked his head to the side; he placed his hand on Redbird's shoulders, his eyes staring into Damian's soul. "I'm not angry..." he growled, although his tone of voice disagreed with his statement. "...just disappointed."

Batman's hand retracted from his son and with a slight snarl he was gone, fading into the night. Damian held himself together for the time it took to get back the bunker. He didn't say a word or show any sign of hurting as he changed from his costume to civilian clothes. He was fine while he took a taxi to the hospital. He didn't react when he heard the clock strike midnight as he entered Steph's room. He sat by her, gripping her hand with both of his, and the tears started to roll down his cheeks.


End file.
